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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024069">Mercy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/svntax/pseuds/svntax'>svntax</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fan Characters, M/M, OH AND MIGHTY AND PERCIVAL HAVE A MOMENT TOO, Sonic and the Black Knight, anyway first fic things whats up, anyway might write a sequel to this?? idk, i think basically i horribly scar tristan before letting him bond with his fellow knights LOL, i would only say SLIGHT body horror but y'know, make your own conclusions, this was a thing that i wrote in 5 hours for cherikyuari/sikyurame's SatBK AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:07:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,358</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/svntax/pseuds/svntax</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir Tristan must learn how cruel kindness can seem.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mighty the Armadillo/Sonic the Hedgehog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mercy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sikyurame">Sikyurame</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You can’t keep doing this, Tristan.”</p>
<p>The words once rang through Tristan’s skull like a dragon’s roar, but now they simply ricocheted off his armor. He’d had this conversation hundreds of times.</p>
<p>Percival’s voice was filled with exasperation. Though her face was covered by her helmet, he could only imagine how her stare, usually alight with the brightest of blazing fires, would now be cold metal. When she had a point to make, she’d drill it into you, as hard as she could. This time, however, there was no such drilling. Tristan could tell that Percival, too, was quite tired of this conversation.</p>
<p>And not just her; Gawain and Lancelot stood farther ahead, watching the two. Like Percival, Gawain’s face was obscured, but Lancelot stared directly at them, with his usual dark stare. Tristan tried not to pay attention to them, knowing they were just as annoyed by this as he was. He was a Knight of the Round Table, for Camelot’s sake. Protecting the weak from those who would seek to use them for nefarious purposes was his duty.</p>
<p>But Tristan hated killing. Ever since he was a child, the idea that a complex being such as himself, or his family could be extinguished in an instant by a flick of the hand, the glint of a sword, a flying arrow, or worse, was repulsive to him. Moreover, he believed, no he knew, that with enough work, even the most unrepentant criminals could turn around and be good people.</p>
<p>Percival spoke again. “You are a knight of the Round Table, and it is our duty to protect Camelot.”</p>
<p>Tristan shivered. Those words meant so much to him. So much that it scared him. What did it mean to protect Camelot?</p>
<p>Though he did not ask her, Percival answered. “Kindness and mercy are not an option.”</p>
<p>It was the first time she had said that. They had had this conversation many times, and though he knew that that was what she was saying every time, she had never told him outright that mercy couldn’t be possible. It hadn’t been something they’d ever said.</p>
<p>It shook Tristan with a conviction. Never before had she said it to his face, and he could not prevent his emotions from taking over. His eyes welled up, and his voice shook. “W-what do you mean?”</p>
<p>Percival flinched. She had struck a nerve, but it wasn’t her intention to. Still, she wondered why Tristan, Knight of Camelot, felt so strongly about this. But before she could respond, Tristan spoke again.</p>
<p>“No. You can’t be serious.” Tears streamed down his face, and he wiped them away. “Everyone deserves mercy because no one is born evil!” His voice raised higher. “You can’t tell me that HE-“ - at this Tristan turned and pointed to the wolf on his knees behind him - “-CAN’T BE SAVED!!”</p>
<p>The light grey wolf, nothing but a lowly peasant, was seated on his knees, a guilty expression on his face. His fur was dirty and tangled, his clothing ripped and stained. He was young, only 15 at most. Dry tear marks stained his face, and he did not look up when Tristan pointed at him.</p>
<p>The boy had tried to kill a government official, in broad daylight. The official, a high-ranking treasurer’s assistant, was walking to his home when the boy sprung out from the shadows, knife in hand. Tristan was the first to the scene. He restrained the child, though it surprised him that he did not resist at all. When the assistant demanded he be executed, Tristan refused, using his authority as a knight to take the boy away from the crowd and bring him somewhere safe. He still wondered why the boy did not resist. Maybe he was being controlled and needed help. Maybe he was simply stunned by Tristan’s quick reaction time. But above all, he knew the boy did not deserve death.</p>
<p>But Percival and the others had caught up with him, and they wanted answers.</p>
<p>So they were getting some.</p>
<p>When Tristan pointed at the boy, he noticed Gawain turn away his gaze. He did not dwell on this for long, but he wondered why Gawain could not look on.</p>
<p>Percival stepped closer, startling Tristan out of his short thought train. “He tried to kill a government official. Murder holds no place in Camelot.”</p>
<p>Tristan shot back. “So we kill him? To show how murder isn’t right? Even you, Percival, can see the foolishness in such an act.”</p>
<p>Percival bristled. “Damnit, Tristan! You know what I mean!”</p>
<p>Tristan’s resolve was fading, but he steadied on. “I don’t think YOU know what you mean, Percival. Violence can’t always be the answer. If we killed every murderer who we caught, we’d be no better! And what if we could fix them? We could hel-“</p>
<p>Tristan’s sentence went unfinished as Percival finally snapped. Quick as lightning, her hand flashed and struck Tristan across the face. She snarled. “Are you even thinking?! Thinking of EVERY murderer?!? We can’t show them ALL mercy, because NOT EVERYONE CAN BE FIXED!! It’s really that simple, Tristan! We either save every criminal, and let crime run rampant, or we kill or jail them all and show them that crime gets them nowhere!”</p>
<p>Tristan had stopped listening. His face stung. His eyes watered again. His resolve suddenly hardened.</p>
<p>Without another word, Tristan spun around on his heels and picked up the boy. He swung him around over his shoulder and ran. The others’ surprised shouts, their calls for him went unanswered, unheard.</p>
<p>Tristan ran through the forest. Tears once again streamed down his face. This time, he let them flow freely.</p>
<p>Percival turned back towards Lancelot and Gawain. “We need to go after him. He could get lost...” Though her eyes were hidden, her tone said a lot. A mix of exasperation, frustration, and worry, that spoke volumes over what she could show through her face alone.</p>
<p>Lancelot waved her off. “He’ll be fine. He knows the way back. He’s not stupid, he’s just...passionate. Eventually, his emotions will calm down and he’ll see reason. Right, Gawain?”</p>
<p>The hedgehog turned towards the red echidna. But Gawain spoke not a word. He turned his head away from Lancelot.</p>
<p>Lancelot stared for a moment, then shrugged.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>It was dusk by the time Tristan reached the old house. No one lived there. No one ever had, by his recollection. He cracked the door open and stepped inside. He set the boy down, who gingerly walked over and sat down on a chair near the right wall. Tristan noted that the boy looked shaky. Probably worried sick from fear of death. Tristan kept some bread in one of the cabinets nearby. As he searched for it, the boy spoke.</p>
<p>“Why did you spare me, Sir Tristan?”</p>
<p>His voice was meek, and if Tristan wasn’t paying much attention, he doubted he’d even have heard it. But Tristan answered honestly. “Because I think you’re worth it. You didn’t resist when I grabbed you. I think it’s because you need help. So that’s what I’m doing.” He found the bread. Tristan grabbed a loaf, broke it in half, and tossed it to the boy. “Eat.”</p>
<p>The boy caught it but did not eat it. He spoke once more. “You should not have spared me.”</p>
<p>Tristan chuckled. Every criminal said this when he let them live. He walked over to the boy and sat facing him. “And why is that?”</p>
<p>The boy was staring down at the floor. Tears filled his eyes.</p>
<p>Usually, when Tristan asked this question, most people would answer with something to the effect of “Because I’m not a good person!” or “Because I’m not worth the trouble.” Tristan had heard them so often, he wasn’t expecting anything different. He took a bite of his half of the loaf.</p>
<p>Instead, the boy said, “Because saving me is no mercy.”</p>
<p>Tristan paused his chewing. He stared at the boy. The boy’s bright blue eyes stared back. His tears fell freely now.</p>
<p>Tristan swallowed. “What do you mean, no mercy? Life is surely a better outcome than death. You’ll get to start over. Be someone you never thought you could be.”</p>
<p>The boy clenched his fists, crushing the uneaten bread in his hand. His tears fell harder. His voice shook. “There’s no starting over for me. It’s too late...” He faltered at the end.</p>
<p>Tristan put a hand on his shoulder, but inside, he was concerned. What did the boy mean? Why was it too late? Tristan suddenly remembered he’d never asked the boy’s name. So much for being polite.</p>
<p>Tristan drew in a deep breath, then let it out. “What’s your name, boy?”</p>
<p>The boy’s eyes closed. “I...don’t have one.”</p>
<p>Tristan shuddered. What cruelty. “I’m...sorry.”</p>
<p>The boy sighed. “Don’t be. It wasn’t my parents’ fault. They hadn’t decided, and then the sickness took them.”</p>
<p>Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “Sickness...?”</p>
<p>The boy’s eyes opened. “I know not what it really is. After my parents passed, I went to live with an aunt. She didn’t name me either. She was<br/>
too busy. She lived in a big estate in the city and had lots of books, but none of them had any idea of what killed them. My aunt said it was some sort of curse befallen on our family.”</p>
<p>Suddenly the boy clutched his stomach. He fell out of his chair, hissing in pain. Tristan yelped in confusion and rushed to help him. The boy rolled around on the floor, his sobs of pain turning into dry heaves. Tristan grabbed the boy, pulled him up, and sat him down. The boy had begun to cry again. He wiped the tears away. After a long moment, the boy spoke.</p>
<p>“This is why I said it was no mercy to save me, Sir Tristan.”</p>
<p>The boy pulled out a knife. He turned the knife blade towards his chest. Tristan leaped up, prepared to wrench the knife away when the boy said,<br/>
“Relax, Sir Tristan. I am only cutting away my shirt. It will not matter for much longer.”</p>
<p>He brought the knife to his shirt. Carefully, he cut the shirt down the middle. When he pulled the tattered shreds away from his chest, Tristan recoiled in horror.</p>
<p>Through his light grey belly fur, he could see <em>something moving</em>, like a worm or a snake, under his skin.</p>
<p>Tristan stumbled over his next words. “W-what...is that... thing?”</p>
<p>The boy sighed again. “I know not, Sir Tristan. But it is killing me slowly. It is what my aunt called a manifestation of the curse. Every person belonging to my bloodline has fallen to it. Even my aunt, which is why I’m out in the streets. She is the reason I’m here.”</p>
<p>”4 days ago, the curse began to take a hold of my aunt. She was bedridden from then on, and it broke my heart to see her in such pain. My aunt told me of a sum of money she kept in the treasury, reserved for emergencies. She hoped to cure herself and me before it was too late. Had I the money now, you and I would not be speaking.”</p>
<p>“But fate is cruel. The assistant I spoke with would grant us no money. Said that they could not afford to. My aunt said it couldn’t be helped. She asked me to put her out of her misery yesterday, with this same knife I hold now. I hated it.” His voice rose an octave with those last words. He sniffled and wiped his nose before continuing. “Today, I...found out through a family friend that the assistant had stolen the money and used it for his own selfish desires. I was...not in the right frame of mind. I acquired a set of peasant’s garb and a knife, and in a fit of rage, I attacked him. That was when the curse began to strike me. That’s why I did not resist when you grabbed me. I was in so much pain...”</p>
<p>As Tristan listened to the boy’s story, he felt his anger rising. Such injustice. This boy was weak compared to such a high-ranking official,<br/>
and when the moment came, he used it to slight the boy, someone of no importance to him. Why? What was the point? Who could stand to ruin a child’s life like that?</p>
<p>When the boy finished, Tristan stood up, fists clenched. “Where is this assistant? I swear by my honor, I will grant you the justice you’ve yet to receive. This...this callous act will not go unanswered.”</p>
<p>The boy sighed. “Probably in the city. But before you grant me justice, may you be so kind to grant me mercy.”</p>
<p>Tristan cocked his head. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>The boy got up, just to sit back down on the floor. He stumbled to his knees and spoke.</p>
<p>“I want you, Sir Tristan, to grant me release from this pain. I want you to strike me down.”</p>
<p>Tristan stumbled back, almost tripping over the chair he forgot was there. He regained his balance, but he was shaky. “W-what? But why? This curse can be cured, you said. We must do everything we can to save you! I swore I would grant you justice, you must live to see it!”</p>
<p>The boy shook his head. “My aunt was a strong woman, of body and mind. Stronger than me, even. She was as healthy as could be. The curse killed her in 4 days. Now that it’s affecting me...I probably have less time than she did. It’s not my choice to live longer. At most, I have till tomorrow to live. I’ve seen all I’ve ever wanted to see and done all I’ve ever wanted to do, Sir Tristan. Now please...”</p>
<p>Tristan turned away. He couldn’t do it. It boggled his mind; who would ask to die? Surely there was a more reasonable solution, one that didn’t necessitate bloodshed. Tears welled up in his eyes again. The boy winced as pain struck him again. Still, he ventured on. “Sir Tristan, listen to me. You believe kindness and mercy are an option. Sir Percival said so herself. You want to help everyone, but want to avoid bloodshed. Correct?”</p>
<p>Tristan nodded.</p>
<p>“Then you’ll learn that kindness and mercy are two sides of the same sword. Sparing the life of a troublemaker and helping them through their darkest hours, that’s kindness. That’s mercy. Ending the life of a suffering soul who can’t be saved is also a kindness, a mercy. Relief from a life of pain.”</p>
<p>Tristan’s hands shook. Deep down, he knew. But he never wanted to admit it. Killing someone...it disgusted him. He always felt he could rise above the act. He preferred life over death. It was unthinkable, that someone would want to die. But he could not deny the boy’s wise words, despite how young he was.</p>
<p>Tristan turned to face the boy. “You have no name. I’d like to fix that.” He examined the boy’s features. “You look like a Thomas to me. So that will be your new name.”</p>
<p>The newly christened Thomas’s eyes shone. “A kindness, Sir Tristan. Thank you.”</p>
<p>Tristan put his hand on the handle of his axe. Every bone in his body, every nerve screamed NO!! This is wrong, you can’t kill someone, it goes against everything you’ve ever stood for! How could you?!</p>
<p>Thomas spoke again. “You’re struggling. If you can’t do this, tell me. I don’t want to cause you any trouble. I have no qualms about doing the deed myself.”</p>
<p>Tristan gripped the axe hard. “No.”</p>
<p>Even as he spoke, it felt as if he was watching someone else, wearing his own skin. Was he really doing this?</p>
<p>
  <em>“Then you’ll learn that kindness and mercy are two sides of the same<br/>
sword.”, said the boy.</em>
</p>
<p>Tristan knew. This boy was not weak. He asked for death, stared it in the face. He knew what he was asking for when he attacked the assistant. He knew when he told Tristan his story. This boy was strong. Thomas was a true warrior. One even King Arthur could be proud of.</p>
<p>Tears streamed down Tristan’s face. He slid the axe out from its position on his back. But then Thomas spoke up.</p>
<p>“Ah...an axe won’t be enough, Sir Tristan.” He stood, and handed Tristan the knife. Engraved on the blade was the word <em>Misericordium</em>. Engraved on the handle was the word <em>Misericordiae</em>. Two sides of the same sword.<br/>
Tristan let out a sob. This was decidedly worse, how could he hold Thomas in his arms just to kill him?</p>
<p>“I know what you’re thinking, Sir Tristan. But it needs to be the knife. And it needs to be inserted where the thing is.” He pointed to the snake thing moving inside his body. “They didn’t kill it when it afflicted my grandfather, and well...something escaped from his body. The same thing that’s inside of me now. Somewhere someone remembers what happened. All I know is that 2 villages that were near where he died don’t exist anymore.”</p>
<p>Tristan dropped the axe. It hit the floor with a thunk. The horrors Thomas’s family had suffered. He couldn’t bear to think of it. Everything just came crashing upon him like waves on the shore. He sniffled.</p>
<p>Tristan’s next words were shaky. “You...are wise beyond your years. You’ve taught me something tonight. I...I won’t forget you, Thomas.”</p>
<p>Thomas smiled. It was a bright smile, one of kindness. “Nor I you, Sir Tristan. I’m sure someday when you pass, we will laugh about this together in the afterlife.”</p>
<p>Tristan turned the knife around, blade facing Thomas. His hands shook, and Tristan took a deep breath. With his left hand, he took hold of Thomas’s shoulder. With his right, he held the knife. He let the breath out,</p>
<p>and in went the knife.</p>
<p>The snake thing contorted and writhed, thrashed, and struggled in its death throes. Thomas hissed in pain, then yelped. Tears fell from both of their eyes. Even as the blood stained Thomas’s clothing, stained Tristan’s hands, he did not pull the knife out, for it would not stop moving. Even as everything inside of Tristan cried out against this act, he would not let his will falter.</p>
<p>It took 2 minutes of pure agony for the snake thing to cease its movement, and with it, Thomas collapsed. His breathing was shallow, ragged, and his blood pooled on the floor, but his eyes were brighter, healthier-looking. He was no longer shaky but lay in Tristan’s arms, almost relaxed.</p>
<p>Thomas’s words were barely audible. “Thank you...Sir Tristan. I have one more request...if you will...g-grant me it.”</p>
<p>Tristan’s voice was hoarse. “Anything.”</p>
<p>Thomas took in a ragged breath. “Please...bury me beside the river nearby. It’s such a beautiful place at night. I’d like to admire it...when I’m gone.”</p>
<p>Tristan nodded. A sob shook him harder than he intended. Thomas shook with him. He breathed in sharply, then exhaled slowly.</p>
<p>Thomas’s eyes were now no longer bright, but hazy. “Be well...Sir Tristan.”</p>
<p>He breathed in, then out, and then never again.</p>
<p>And Tristan cried.</p>
<p>He cried for a very long time. Here, a life he couldn’t have saved through peace. It hurt him with every sob he let out. He’d gone against everything he had ever stood for. Yet Tristan felt that somehow, he was better for it.  He’d learned a valuable lesson...still, taking a life was the worst thing he’d ever done, and for his own sake, he hoped he would never have to do it again.</p>
<p>When he finally composed himself, he took Thomas’s body and buried him beside the river. As he scraped the last of the dirt over Thomas’s face, Tristan could only think:</p>
<p>He was right. It is beautiful at night.</p>
<p>Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him. He whirled around, before becoming aware he had left his axe and the knife back at the house. He sighed and readied his fists.</p>
<p>A silhouette stepped out from the trees. It was Gawain.</p>
<p>“Gawain? What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>Gawain spoke. It was a stony voice, though Gawain always had a kind word for Tristan. “Came to see how you were doing.”</p>
<p>Tristan visibly relaxed. “I see. Thanks.”</p>
<p>Gawain sat down next to Tristan. “Beautiful place you’ve found. But where’s the kid?”</p>
<p>Tristan’s eyes welled up again, but he told the story. When he finished, Gawain took off his helmet. His eyes were red, and tears began to fall. Tristan stopped crying out of shock. Gawain was not a crier.</p>
<p>But when he spoke, his voice was steel-edged. “I know how you feel. I had three brothers, all slain by Lancelot when I tried to stop Guinevere’s execution. I have never said it, but...I wish he had spared them too.”</p>
<p>Tristan’s shock was palpable. “He did not spare them?”</p>
<p>Gawain shook his head sadly. “Not a one. Not Agravain, nor Gaheris or Gareth. Do you think they deserved to live?”</p>
<p>Tristan put his hand on Gawain’s shoulder. “I do.”</p>
<p>Gawain smiled. “That’s what I like about you, Tristan. You want to save everyone. You see the good in them when we can’t. It’s why you’re part<br/>
of the Round Table.” Gawain looked out over the river. “But you know it can’t always be this way. Sometimes, no matter what we do, someone doesn’t accept kindness or mercy. Or, like tonight, mercy is an act of  killing someone over letting them live.”</p>
<p>Tristan straightened himself up. “That’s why I...that’s why I became a knight. To save as many people as I can. Sometimes I wish Percival and Lancelot could see that.”</p>
<p>Gawain chuckled. “I know Lancelot does. Speaking isn’t his strong point, but he knows how you feel. And I think that Percival does too. She’s worried herself sick over you back at camp.”</p>
<p>Tristan smiled, bigger than he had before today.</p>
<p>They sat in silence for a while, watching the moon hanging over the sky. The stars shone brighter than before, and Tristan couldn’t help but wonder if Thomas was up there with those stars that shone the biggest.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Percival was keeping watch at the fire when Tristan and Gawain returned. She shot up from her seated position and ran towards them. “Are you two okay?! It’s so late, where have you two been?”</p>
<p>Tristan struggled for an answer, but Gawain thankfully spoke up; “We went for a walk in the forest.”</p>
<p>“And what about the kid?”</p>
<p>Tristan spoke more forcefully than he intended. “His name is Thomas.” But he faltered. “And I killed him...God, I...” His head dropped.</p>
<p>Percival’s eyes betrayed her shock, if only for a brief moment. She straightened herself.</p>
<p>“I...it’ll be fine, Tristan. Err...Gawain, if you please?”</p>
<p>She motioned for him to leave.</p>
<p>When he had gone back to his tent, Percival’s eyes softened. “Tristan, I...I wanted to...apologize for what happened earlier.” At these words, Tristan whipped his head up in shock. Percival apologizing? It was unheard of.</p>
<p>“I was...much too harsh with you when I spoke, and...quite honestly, I did not consider your point of view when I spoke. I was...not a good friend to you, and...for that, I ask for your forgiveness.”</p>
<p>She put on her “kitty eyes”. A term she had coined, whenever she was feeling guilty or sad, they would appear. It was quite rare to see them, and Tristan softened at the sight of them.</p>
<p>“Percival...it’s okay. I should’ve done the same. Thomas taught me that kindness and mercy go both ways. Sometimes...to save someone you have to...well...”</p>
<p>And as he repeated the story to Percival, her eyes widened. Her pupils shrunk to the tiniest dots. When he finished, she did not speak for a long while. Tristan almost shook her to see if she was okay, but she spoke at that moment.</p>
<p>“I...God. You truly did him a kindness. Such horrible things were done to him. And to think of him as a criminal...”</p>
<p>Tristan nodded. “Don’t blame yourself. He was simply a victim. Lashed out when he lost the last thing dear to him.”</p>
<p>He stood. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. I need to sleep.”</p>
<p>Percival nodded, then smiled. “You deserve it. Get some rest, you’re not going to sit watch tonight.”</p>
<p>Tristan smiled back, then turned to see Gawain stomping out of his tent, smoke billowing out of his ears.</p>
<p>“Gawain, what’s the matter?”</p>
<p>“SOMEONE STOLE THE BAG OF COIN I LEFT IN MY TENT!! DAMNIT, WHEN I FIND THEM, I’LL-“</p>
<p>Tristan chuckled. “Calm down, Gawain. We’ll find them, don’t worry.”</p>
<p>“You already did.”</p>
<p>The three whipped their heads around.</p>
<p>“Up here.”</p>
<p>Tristan looked up and saw him.</p>
<p>A blue hedgehog, in a green hood, bow in one hand, and a dangling bag of coin in the other stood on one of the tree branches.</p>
<p>He smirked. “Don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore, since y’know, being a knight and all...I’m sure King Arthur pays you quite the hefty sum.”</p>
<p>Gawain let out a frustrated roar, which prompted Lancelot to crawl out of his tent. “WHO IS YELLING SO LOUD??”</p>
<p>Tristan stared at the thief. “Just who do you think you are?”</p>
<p>The hedgehog chuckled.</p>
<p>“The name is Arthur! And I’m the fastest thief in the land!”</p>
<p>And with that, he jumped to the next tree, faster than Tristan had ever seen before. And he jumped to the next, and then the next, until he had vanished, out of sight.</p>
<p>Tristan could not help but be impressed.</p>
<p>Gawain finally let out a coherent sentence. “WE NEED TO CHASE AFTER HIM!!”</p>
<p>Tristan chuckled. Sleep, it seemed, would not come for him yet. “I’ll go.”</p>
<p>Percival turned towards him. “Are you sure? You’ve had a rough day.”</p>
<p>Tristan grinned. “What better way to forget than to catch a criminal?”</p>
<p>She laughed. “Go ahead then. Be back by dawn.”</p>
<p>And with that, Tristan took off in the moonlit night after the thief named Arthur.</p>
<p>END</p>
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